At Tully’s coffee shop, Val drummed her fingers against the side of her peppermint mocha, not sure if she should feel angry or relieved. “You really found nothing on my mother?”
“Nada,” Sten said from the other side of the small table where they sat. He popped the lid off his cup, retrieved a flask from his coat pocket, and poured a shot of liquor into his black coffee. Pushing the top back on, he took a slurp. “She’s been off the grid for at least the last ten years. Criminals are shit at staying hidden, but crazy people excel at it. Ironic in a way.”
Val sighed, deciding to split the difference between angry and relieved and settle on annoyed. A dearth of information about her mother’s past meant she couldn’t corroborate or contradict Dani’s story about where the woman had been for the last thirty years. “At least this means she doesn’t have a criminal record.”
“Not in Washington State, or at the federal level. She could’ve been naughty in another state, though. No offense, but I’m really not in the mood to make forty-nine phone calls to check.”
“And your contact said my mother didn’t have anything to do with Northwalk?”
He nodded. “Not sure I completely trust my contact on this one, but…we’ve always had similar goals.”
Val rapped her fingers harder against the coffee cup. She must be missing something. Could her long-lost mother really have waltzed back into her life with no ulterior motive and no connection to the conspiracy that stalked her and Max?
“Maybe Grandma Shepherd’s legit,” Sten said, then shrugged. “If I were you, I’d shoot her in the head anyway, just to be sure.”
“Murdering my own mother’s off the table, but thanks for your advice.”
He gave her his usual shit-eating grin. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She considered asking him what he wanted for his trouble, but decided against it. If he didn’t bring it up, then she’d let sleeping dogs lie.
“I need to ask you for another favor.”
He sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “You can ask.”
“I’m looking for a woman named Eleanor Fatou.” Val showed him the picture. “I know where she used to work, where she sometimes lives, and who she occasionally sleeps with, but I’ve been unable to track her down. She moves around too much. With my mother and the kids, and Max, and Christmas obligations, I don’t have the time to stake out her haunts or hit up her known associates.”
“Is this woman a rapist, murderer, cult leader, or wild political animal to add to your fan club?”
“You know that club includes you.”
“And I am your biggest fan!”
“She’s responsible for the bombing at the Thornton Building.”
His jovial demeanor fell away. “That was terrorists,” he said with rare seriousness.
“It was Eleanor. She sent this to me on the day of the bombing, just before it happened.”
Val handed Sten the cryptic letter. He took a few seconds to read the letter before looking at her with a pinched frown. “Assuming this means what you think it means, what’s her motive?”
“She wants to hurt us—me and Max and the children. I have no goddamn idea why. If I could find her, I’d ask.” Val laid the journal and ferry ticket on the table. “She takes the ferry to Bremerton on Saturdays. I don’t know if she lives there, or is visiting someone, or what. Maybe you can see if she’s got an address listed there. I also found the journal in her apartment. I can’t tell if the handwriting matches the letter, but some of her entries definitely refer to Max and me. Whether she’s got some deeper motive, I don’t know, but she planted a bomb that killed eight people and was probably meant for Max, then murdered another guy in a church and tried to set it on fire to torment us some more. She’s a psychopath who’s obsessed with us for some reason, and I have no clue where she is right now and I don’t have the resources or time to look for her and—” Clenching her jaw, she took a deep breath to control the rage beginning to boil over inside her. How dare this woman come after her family—and just when Val felt the most vulnerable.
“I took this book from her apartment, too.” Val dropped the smooth-covered Bible in front of him. “It’s probably got her prints on it.”
“And yours now.”
“I know that, but ignore mine. Just see if there’s a hit on Eleanor’s prints in the police database. If there’s any inch of you that takes the ‘serve and protect’ part of your job seriously, you should find her before she kills again.”
Sten flipped through the journal, scanning a couple pages, his face unreadable. She doubted he gave one rat’s ass about Max, and probably not her children, either. But how much did he care about his “partner”? Probably not any more than what she could do for him.
He sandwiched the letter and ferry ticket into the journal, tossed it back to her, then picked up the Bible with a paper napkin as he stood to leave. “You know what I love about you, Shepherd? I love how your problems become everybody else’s problems, and yet somehow it’s not your fault.”
She gritted her teeth. The asshole wasn’t completely wrong. Fucking Sten. “So you’ll find her?”
“And what if I do? You’re telling me you just wanna talk?”
“No, I don’t just want to talk.”
Zipping up his ugly Members Only jacket, he cocked his head and looked at her for a moment in the way she recognized from when he’d arrested one of her rapists on trumped-up child pornography charges. He acknowledged her anger, her thirst for revenge, and somehow understood what she was willing to give—and give up—to protect her family. Sten knew her in a way no one else did, not even Max. He’d seen the worst in her, and recognized a kindred spirit.
“Kerlaču şartsa,” he said, then turned and left.
She’d never heard him speak a foreign language before, didn’t even know he knew one. Typing the phonetic spelling of whatever he’d said into her phone, she ran it through her Internet search engine. One result popped up: roughly “Happy New Year,” in Chechen.
* * *
As Val drove around the corner of her condo complex on her way to the carport, she saw Lacy Zephyr get out of a sedan and walk toward the front gate. Val cruised to a stop behind Lacy’s car and caught up with her before she reached the gate. Might as well have their unpleasant conversation away from the children. And maybe if they exchanged words in the cold, Lacy would be motivated to keep it short, or at least save her screaming fit for somewhere warm. She didn’t strike Val as someone who tolerated being uncomfortable one second longer than necessary. This talk was the last thing she wanted to do right now, but she needed to coax information out of Lacy on her husband’s future plans, and when he might meet up with Eleanor again.
“You’ve found something?” Lacy asked as Val trotted up to her.
“Yes. It’s not much yet, but—”
“I don’t care, just tell me!”
Damn, someone was itching for bad news—or good news, if Lacy wanted an excuse to divorce her husband.
“Aaron’s definitely seeing someone else,” Val said. “I’m not sure about the extent of their involvement, though, if it’s physical or—”
“Give me the pictures.”
“This is the only one I have so far.” Keeping an iron grip on her phone so Lacy couldn’t rip it from her hand and spike it into the ground, Val held it up with Eleanor’s picture on the screen. Lacy grabbed Val’s wrist and glared at the photo as if trying to blow it up with her eyes.
Her voice suddenly hoarse, Lacy asked, “Where are the pictures of her and Aaron?”
“I haven’t actually seen them together.”
“But Max has, right? Otherwise how would you know?”
Val didn’t answer. Max made it clear he didn’t want to be involved in the case, and his budding friendship with Aaron probably made that doubly true now. “I need to know where Aaron might be rendezvousing with her. If you can give me a schedule of his typical day, I can follow him and get the pictures.”
Lacy scoffed. “I don’t know where the hell he is every minute. He goes to work, then he usually goes to that bar I told you about. Sometimes he just disappears and doesn’t tell me where he’s been, or feeds me some obvious lie.” She gritted her teeth, eyes filling with frustrated tears. “You’re the goddamn private eye. You find them!”
Before Val could ask her more about where Aaron might be shagging his homicidal girlfriend, Lacy stomped back to her car. As she stepped into the driver’s side, she yelled at Val, “And you might want to keep an eye on your own husband while you’re at it, since Aaron and Max are suddenly best buddies. Birds of a feather flock together. Chances are your man will be fucking someone else any day now. Men are pigs.” She disappeared into her car and peeled off.
Jesus, Lacy. She wanted Val’s help? To hell with her and her stupid marital strife. The only reason she cared about Lacy’s problems anymore was because Aaron’s mistress happened to be a murderer who was targeting her family. If Lacy chose to stay ignorant of her husband’s whereabouts while assuming the worst, then her marriage deserved to die. And philandering wasn’t some kind of virus, so that if Aaron sneezed on Max, he’d catch the Roaming Dick disease. Max would never stray, not in a million years. Not after everything they’d been through together.
Val returned to her car and drove to the garage in the back of the condo. Max’s sedan was still gone. She glanced at her watch. Where was he anyway? He should’ve been home from work by now.
She dug her cell phone out of her tote and queued up Max’s number, then dismissed it with an angry shake of her head. What would she say to him? Where are you? You’re not cheating on me, are you? Goddammit, she was turning into Lacy. Maybe Aaron’s wife had passed on the Irrational Jealousy disease.
And she still didn’t know where the hell to find Eleanor. She could follow Aaron, or stake out Jones’s or Eleanor’s apartment in the off chance she might return, or stalk the ferry to Bremerton every Saturday night, but those things took time she didn’t have, not with her mother and children to protect. Besides, if Eleanor knew Val was on to her, she wouldn’t return to those places anyway.
It’d be nice if she could ask Stacey for help, or at least talk about all this with her, but dragging her old friend into this mess wasn’t a good idea. They weren’t there yet. The only person she had to lean on these days was Max, and when he wasn’t around, it became glaringly obvious how alone in the world they were without each other.
Well, there was also Sten. Fucking Sten. He had police resources at his disposal to track down Eleanor. She could lean on him, if she had no other choice. At this rate they would be partners, and she’d never be rid of him.
Val stomped up the carport stairs and burst through the door leading into the kitchen. She stood in the threshold for a moment and took a deep breath. Don’t be angry in front of the kids or Dani—or Jamal, he might wet his pants.
She heard children laughing and Toby barking his head off, coming from the living room. Walking over to see what the fuss was about, she saw Dani growling on her hands and knees, face-to-face with the dog in a mock standoff, while the kids watched in delight. Jamal sat on the couch, rearranging flash cards with Japanese words on them.
“Mommy!” Simon and Lydia said in unison when they saw her. They ran to her and latched on to her legs.
“Hey, kiddos,” she said with fake cheer and kissed the tops of their heads. “Were you good for Jamal and Nana?”
Lydia gave her mother an impish smile. “Mostly.”
Dani stood, leaving poor Toby in a state of agitated confusion where he whined and spun in circles; he wasn’t in on the joke. She picked up a stack of papers off the coffee table.
“We drew pictures,” Dani said. She showed Val a crayon drawing of the Eiffel Tower, “Simon” written on the bottom. “They’re very good artists. I mean, very good.” She held up another of the Sydney Opera House surrounded by rainbows. “I kinda can’t believe a four-year-old drew this. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d swear it was a hoax—”
Val snatched the drawing out of Dani’s hand. “Sometimes kids have flashes of talent. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“But pumpkin—”
Don’t call me that. Val yanked the rest of the pictures out of her mother’s arms.
“Your kids are very special. Maybe you should have them tested—”
“They are not special! They are normal. Normal.” Shit. This was exactly why it’d been a bad idea letting her mother stay with them.
“Oh, okay…” Dani looked away, her eyes twitchy. Nervous or crazy? Both? Maybe Val should tell her to leave tonight.
“Nana’s gonna make us chocolate chip cookies!” Simon said. The children unlatched themselves from Val and gave Dani a hug. She smiled warmly at them, still avoiding Val’s glare.
Who was this woman? The kids had warmed to her, though they’d liked their grandmother even before they met her. Children wanted to love their family. Not even Val’s special son and daughter understood how thin blood could be. When she was a kid, she’d dreamed of her mother’s return, how sorry her mom would be for being gone so long and all the warm hugs and bonding that would follow. Now her childhood fantasy had come true, and it felt…wrong. Unnatural. Nothing good ever came without a price.
“Um, ma’am,” Jamal said, breaking the tension. “Mrs. Lacy Zephyr—”
“I know,” Val snapped. “I talked to her on my way in. You can leave now. I’ve got it from here.” A second later, she added, “Thanks.”
He pressed his lips together as if he wanted to say more, but bid farewell to the children instead and left for the day.
“Can you two go upstairs and put on your best cookie-baking outfits?” Dani said to the kids.
Before Val could tell her mother not to order her kids around, Simon and Lydia sprinted out of sight like a herd of baby buffalo.
Sighing about her shitty day—and her MIA husband—Val walked to the kitchen and pulled a beer from the fridge, popped the cap off, and took a long drink. She’d kicked her binge drinking habit when she and Max permanently united, but she still liked to imbibe a responsible amount on occasion…stressful occasions.
After a few seconds of silence, Dani said, “Your kids are wonderful. I love spending time with them.”
“You do, huh? It only took thirty years to give a shit about your family?”
Dani flinched, tears welling. Great, more fucking crying. “I know I was gone when you needed me, and I’m sorry. If I could turn back the clock and do it over again, I would in a heartbeat.”
Val took a deep breath, then another swig of beer. Now it was she who couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes. She didn’t want Dani to see the emotional struggle she waged with herself, how vulnerable she actually felt. If she opened her heart to her mother and the woman left again…crushed would be an understatement.
“I thought you let me come visit your family because you wanted to reconcile,” Dani said. “What do you need from me to make things right?”
Val met her mother’s gaze, her eyes narrowing a sliver. Reconciliation wasn’t her primary motive, actually. “Do you have any enemies?”
Dani’s face warped from concern to confusion. “Do I have any what?”
“Enemies. Like people you owe money, stole from, or crossed in some way. Anyone who’d want to hurt you.”
She looked around the kitchen as if searching for an answer in the cabinets. “I…I don’t think so. But there’s a lot I don’t remember, so I guess I don’t know. Why?”
Maybe Dani’s mental health issues would make her more likely to believe a woo-woo explanation for Val’s concerns. “I have a feeling someone’s going to try to hurt you.”
Dani’s eyes widened, and she held Val’s gaze for long enough to make Val wonder if she was thinking something she didn’t want to say out loud. “What kind of feeling?”
“It’s…just a feeling.”
Dani didn’t know what Val could do, did she? Val always wanted to ask her mother about it when she was young, naïve, and confused about why her sexual experiences didn’t match other girls’ stories. Now that she had the chance, she couldn’t bring herself to take the risk. But maybe her mom could do it, too, and was waiting for a cue to broach the subject?
What were the odds Val inherited her visions from her mother? Max and Val had passed their curse on to their children, so she figured there must be some kind of hereditary component. Max doubted it, though, telling her if that were true, Northwalk would’ve established a breeding program decades or even hundreds of years ago, for at least as long as the organization had been in existence. The world would be a very different place, he’d said, ruled by future-seers, like some kind of crazy, sexier Dune thing. She supposed he was right. He was always so logical. According to his reasoning, they might have had lots of children, and none of them would be Alphas. But of course, they immediately had two Alphas right away. Their own children were an unfortunate exception he couldn’t explain.
She watched her mother’s face for any sign of recognition or flash of insight into what Val referred to, but there was none. Val closed her eyes and finished off her beer, wishing alcohol would numb the sinking feeling in her heart for hoping for something so stupid.
“I don’t want to bring negative energy into your family,” Dani said. Val saw the flash of coldness in her eyes again, the one that’d been there when she first arrived, and just as quickly it disappeared. She’d done things she was ashamed of, Val guessed. Though Dani seemed open about her past, Val noticed her mother often skimmed over details, claiming she couldn’t remember on account of her mental illness. Could be just an excuse.
“I don’t think I have any enemies.” She looked at the floor and said in a small voice, “Except, um, maybe you…”
Val knew she could be emotionally manipulative at times; now she saw where that trait came from. In any case, Dani had so far been a perfectly pleasant houseguest, and seemed genuinely interested in making amends. Maybe Val should cut her a little slack.
Sighing, she said, “I’m not your enemy, Mom.”
Dani’s eyes filled with tears again—happy tears this time. Val stiffened when her mother embraced her in a hug.
“Oh, thank you, pumpkin, thank you.”
Pumpkin—she thought her mom used that nickname for her when she was a child. She closed her eyes and tried remember.
Would you like to bake a cake with me, pumpkin, for Daddy’s birthday? I’ll put the ingredients in the bowl and you can stir. That’s it, teamwork! Love you, my little baker.
Like a warm blanket, the memory enveloped and soothed her. Val bit her lip and swallowed a lump in her throat, then slowly hugged her mom back. Some risks were worth taking. Hopefully, this was one of them.